[gale says it so readily, as if it is not the greatest of abominations to imagine alia being a herald of peace, of warmth, of comfort. she is the signal of an unyielding knife, she is a totem of death and destruction and despair, she brings only misery and suffering to all who see her. and yet – gale paints a picture of a girl worthy of the sugarspun sweetness of this place, this day, a girl who does not have the blood of thousands of worlds upon her hands.
gale, broad-shouldered and warm-voiced, pokes the tip of alia’s nose, weaves his magic through the air in a scent of blossoms and sugar sweetness, and alia grins like she isn’t that girl either. like she deserves to stand and smile and reach out with both hands for the treat, like she isn’t wrong down to the core of her bones.
and alia, the greedy thing she is, she takes the cotton candy and grins a sugar-painted smile and hooks her arm back through gale’s as she takes a bite and lets it melt on her tongue like the scent of his magic in the air.] Ought to have taught the lessons yourself, clever man. [a beat, a shy averting of her eyes, then:] Thank you. You are sweet to me, Gale of Waterdeep.
no subject
gale, broad-shouldered and warm-voiced, pokes the tip of alia’s nose, weaves his magic through the air in a scent of blossoms and sugar sweetness, and alia grins like she isn’t that girl either. like she deserves to stand and smile and reach out with both hands for the treat, like she isn’t wrong down to the core of her bones.
and alia, the greedy thing she is, she takes the cotton candy and grins a sugar-painted smile and hooks her arm back through gale’s as she takes a bite and lets it melt on her tongue like the scent of his magic in the air.] Ought to have taught the lessons yourself, clever man. [a beat, a shy averting of her eyes, then:] Thank you. You are sweet to me, Gale of Waterdeep.